


Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

by whatsherface



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Mages, Romantic Fluff, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsherface/pseuds/whatsherface
Summary: Trevelyan and Cassandra, in a moment of winter-themed fun.A tiny thing I wrote, with characters from the big thing I wrote.The fluffiest, rot-your-teeth fluff.





	Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Late afternoon sun dazzled off the snowdrifts that lined the mountain path below Skyhold. Owain watched stray flakes dance across them on the wind and was so lost in his thoughts that he had no warning before something cold and hard hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. He reached a gloved hand to his back, and it came away covered in powder. 

He wheeled to see Cassandra smiling wickedly as she stooped to form another snowball, and he couldn’t help the answering grin that pulled at his lips. 

“Are you sure you want to have a snowball fight with a _mage,_ Seeker?” he asked, moving to retaliate. “Going up against the famed Herald of Andraste?” 

He ducked her next volley and scooped up handfuls of snow, packing them into a loose sphere. Cloaking his hands in magic, he melted the surface and then refroze it, encasing the powdered core in a thin, hard shell of ice. He tossed it into the air and propelled it at the Seeker, much like he would a stonefist spell. It hit her hard on the shoulder as she was reaching for more ammunition, exploding on impact just as he intended.

She dropped the snowball she was forming and wiped snow from her face. “Are you using your magic?” she sputtered. “That’s cheating!”

“ _Cheating?_ ” he smirked, his hands already shaping another snowball. “Oh, so now there are rules to this… this unprovoked attack on innocent, unsuspecting Inquisitors? This is merely self-defense, Cassandra. All’s fair in love and war.”

“You are _hardly_ innocent.” She snorted and threw another snowball at him. He fade-stepped out of its path before launching one right back at her. She dodged it this time, but he taunted her anyway. 

“Is that the best you can do, Pentaghast? Don’t you slay dragons? Aren’t you the Hero of Orlais, Right Hand of the Divine? And you can’t even take down a single mage with a snowball.” He shook his head at her, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

She said nothing, just narrowed her eyes at him until, suddenly, she charged toward him, and for a second he knew the fear that their enemies felt when they faced her on the battlefield. Panicking, he shot another ice-and-powder bomb that struck her in the chest, but she didn’t flinch, and neither did she slow down. 

She caught him around the middle and tackled him into a snowdrift, knocking the air out of him. He landed with a grunt, and before he could recover his senses, she had him pinned to the ground, sitting high on his chest and holding his arms down with her knees. She reached over his head for an armful of snow and dumped it unceremoniously on his face. He yelped and gasped for air, both from exertion and the laugh that was bubbling uncontrollably from his lungs. 

“Do you yield?” she asked, brushing the snow from his face, not ungently. The sleek, cold leather of her gloves soothed the sting of ice on his skin. Their breath hung white in the air between them. 

He paused for a moment, looking up at her, a stupid smile still plastered on his face. _Maker, she was beautiful._ Sunlight glowed off her flushed cheeks and gilded the fringes of her dark hair. Her hazel eyes twinkled triumphantly at him. 

“To you, Cassandra? Always.” 

She shook her head and smiled, leaning down to press her lips on his. It filled him with warmth, in spite of the cold seeping through his coat as he lay there in the snow. 

She eased off his chest and released his arms, sliding down into his lap as he pushed himself into a seated position. He wrapped an arm around her waist and caught her mouth in another kiss. It was so distracting that she didn’t notice his free hand reaching out to gather a fistful of snow, nor did she notice as he brought it close behind her. 

He smiled against her lips. “But I will not go quietly,” he whispered, before dropping the snow down the back of her armor. 

She cried out in surprise and leapt to her feet, hands scrabbling at her back, struggling to shake the ice out of her clothes. 

He could tell the instant when the shock in her face turned to murderous intent, and he took the opportunity to get a head start on the way back to the keep.

“I am going to _kill_ you, Trevelyan!” 

He could hear her boots pounding the frozen ground while he ran as fast as the icy path would let him. He was sure she would make him pay for that, one way or another, but he grinned to himself anyway. Like everything about Cassandra, it was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read Clean Burn, consider this an apology for all the angst! I may put them through hell, but deep down, I love these two dorks. Thanks for reading!


End file.
